Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [27]
When Elandra gripped his cloak from behind, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“I am sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s all right,” he said, although it was all he could do to force himself forward. His sense of danger increased with every passing moment. “Stay close.”
The fetid smell increased around him, choking his nostrils. He fought the urge to back away from it, his fear sharp in his throat. Once again he stopped, and he knew he could not continue like this.
“What is it?” she whispered behind him. “What is wrong?”
He knew of only one way to continue. He had to use severance, and somehow he had to take Elandra with him. If he did not prepare her, she would fight him, yet there was no time for long explanations.
“Majesty,” he whispered, holding his sword ready against the unseen danger that crept steadily closer.
“What comes?” she asked. “What do I hear?”
“I must use my ... powers,” he said carefully, “if we are to get through.”
She drew back from him with a gasp. Swift as thought he turned on her and gripped her wrist to keep her from fleeing.
“Trust me, Majesty,” he said urgently. “It is our only chance.”
She pulled against him. “No, I can’t be a part of this!”
“Do you want to die here?”
“No! I—”
“Have I ever harmed you?”
She twisted her arm, gasping when he would not let her go. “Please.”
“Have I ever harmed you?”
“No.”
“Then trust me. Do not fight me. Let me ...” He paused and expelled his breath, trying to keep frustration from his voice. “Let me save you.”
“I don’t know what you are,” she said fearfully. “I will not surrender my soul to—”
“I don’t ask for your soul,” he broke in. “I don’t even ask for your belief. Just don’t fight me. Let me—”
A roar echoed through the passageway, drowning out his sentence. Elandra screamed, and Caelan heard the sound of something rushing toward them.
There was no more time to wait. Caelan wrapped his arm around Elandra and joined them forcibly in sevaisin. He felt her gasp of astonishment. Her sharp flood of fear nearly drowned him. He filled her with all the strength and reassurance he had, making of them one entity, sharing, complete, and whole. Beyond her terror lay the essence of Elandra—warmth and dazzling light, a joyous buoyancy that filled him.
Sharp claws raked down Caelan’s leg. The pain flashed through him just as he severed, taking Elandra with him deep, deep into the coldness, into the aloneness, into the detached isolation.
He was not sure if this would work, was not sure if he could use both sides of his gift at the same time. Sevaisin and severance were total opposites. They repelled each other. All his life, they had warred inside him. He struggled constantly to find a balance; most of the time he managed. But now, he went deeper and deeper into severance, praying Elandra was still with him, praying she remained a part of him. He could not hear her, could not feel her now. He was no longer buoyant, but brittle and tight. He dared not break concentration enough to seek her. Either she remained joined with him, or she did not.
Warding off the demon attacking him, Caelan plunged his sword deep into the creature and at the same time severed its threads of life. Its scream filled the passageway, but Caelan was already shouldering past it.
The sense of evil continued to intensify. It kept invading his senses despite the protection of severance, threatening to overpower him. He could smell evil, a foul stench of corruption so strong he wanted to gag on it. He could taste it in every breath he drew. He could feel it sliding over his skin, slithering in his hair. He felt oily and unclean. It filled his mind, sliding in through the minute cracks of severance like roots in search of soil.
He kept striding forward, feeling the resistance growing against him. In severance the passageway was no longer dark but instead lit by an unearthly glow of feeble illumination. He could see a shimmering, opalescent wall before him. It looked like spun glass, faintly colored, and heavily streaked